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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29299272">At a Loss</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedHallows/pseuds/TwistedHallows'>TwistedHallows</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, Angst, Bad Jokes, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Curse Breaking, Curses, Fluff, Gay Draco Malfoy, Head Auror Ron Weasley, Healer Harry Potter, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Switch Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:09:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29299272</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedHallows/pseuds/TwistedHallows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Draco loses his memory after a curse gone wrong, it's up to his healer to help him remember everything.</p>
<p>But why is his healer so familiar, and why is he the only one he can slightly remember?</p>
<p>In which Harry Potter does his best, and Draco Malfoy tries to figure out who the hell he is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Blaise Zabini</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>“The Healers don’t know much, according to this.” Ron flipped through the medical clipboard that was hooked to the foot of Draco’s bed. Hermione snatched the board from her husband and replaced it, glaring at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That is a violation! You don’t touch his chart! Only Harry and the other Healers can do that.” Her voice softened. “Do we know <em> anything </em>about what’s going on with him?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not sure, he hasn’t been awake in weeks.” Ron shook his head and looked at the pale form of Draco, laying still in the small hospital bed. He may not be best friends with the pointy git, but he was the best Curse Breaker they had at the Ministry, and he had been out of commission for the last month. As the Head Auror, Ron worked closely with Draco and had even consulted with him specifically on certain cases.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Blaise Zabini sat in an armchair next to Draco’s bed, a book propped open on his knees, watching Ron and Hermione’s exchange with bright eyes. He was Draco’s emergency contact, and as such he was called as soon as Draco was admitted into St. Mungo’s and had hardly left his side, visiting hours be damned. He was in a private room reserved for Ministry employees, so visiting hours were only a suggestion. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is he keeping himself under?” He asked, looking interestedly at Hermione. “Is that why no one can wake him up?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s possible,” Hermione hedged, “It could be his magical core keeping him asleep so that he can heal any internal issues.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He was badly injured during that last raid,” Ron offered, “All battered and bruised and the like. He’s gotten a lot better since then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am well aware, Weasley,” Blaise drawled, marking his place in the book and closing it. “I’ve been here since day one. Who knew that being a Curse Breaker was so dangerous?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He did.” Ron frowned at Blaise. “He lives for that shit, you should know that. He’s got a death wish, that one.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rolling his eyes, Blaise stood and stretched. “I’m heading to the canteen. I’m due for some lunch, and I need to firecall Pansy and let her know that there’s no update to his condition. I’ll be back in about an hour or so. Will Healer Potter be in?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione glanced at the permanent Tempus charm affixed to the wall. “His shift starts in 10 minutes. I’m sure he’s in the break room if you wanted to wait for him…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not interested, Granger.” Blaise interrupted. “I’m hungry, tired, grumpy, and I haven’t spoken to my wife in days. I’m sure you’ll send a Patronus if there’s any update. Good day.” He swept from the room, leaving Ron and Hermione to look at each other in bewilderment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“To be fair,” Ron finally spoke, “He has been here all day, every day since Draco was cursed. He probably deserves a break.” Hermione nodded in agreement and sat down in Blaise’s abandoned chair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Does anyone have any idea what he got hit with?” She eyed the chart at the foot of Draco’s bed, wanting to look but knowing it was a medical violation. No matter how old she got, Hermione still followed the rules to the best of her abilities. Ron followed her line of sight and snatched the chart again, flipping quickly to the pages filled with his Healer’s chicken scratch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Blimey, his handwriting hasn’t gotten better, has it,” Ron complained, turning the chart this way and that. “From my reports at the Ministry, he was at the old Crabbe residence and he opened a door and was blasted by an undetected curse. He was knocked out and hasn’t woken since. From Harry’s notes,” he squinted, “He doesn’t appear to be in pain, but there’s something dark that has attached itself to his… something. I can’t read it. Seriously, Harry needs to get a Quick Quotes Quill or something, this is awful.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A moan from the bed caused Hermione to leap to her feet, eyes wide. Draco was beginning to stir, his fingers twitching on the sheet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Quick, go get Harry,” she nearly shrieked, as Ron hastened to replace the chart, “He’s going to want to be here!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m here.” Harry strode into the room, his lime green Healer’s robes billowing behind him. Hair pulled into a topknot at the back of his head, a few stray strands fell into his eyes as he gazed down at the figure on the bed. “I have an alarm set to go off when he’s waking up, and it appears that now is the time.” He cast a silent diagnostic charm and watched as the bubbles of color morphed around Draco’s body, providing him with a color-coded look into what was going on. Mostly greens and yellows around his body and limbs, which wasn’t terrible, but the red that surrounded his head was worrisome.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s that mean?” Ron blurted, his eyes glued on the red bubble.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not sure.” Harry admitted, cancelling the diagnostic and walking to the head of the bed. “Lumos Languidus,” he murmured, and the tip of his wand began to glow with a weak light. Gently opening Draco’s eyes, he moved the light in front of them, watching as the pupils contracted and attempted to focus on the light. “He’s definitely waking up.” Harry confirmed, ending the spell and reaching for the chart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course I’m waking up, you bloody pillock,” Draco’s voice sounded weak with disuse, “I’ve been asleep for ages, I have … things to do.” His voice faltered as he groaned and tried to sit up. Harry quickly waved his wand and shifted the bed into an inclined position.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“All right there, mate?” Ron clapped Draco on the shoulder, causing a wince of pain. “Oops, sorry. Thought that was a green spot.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop touching my patient, Ron.” Waving him away, Harry conjured a stool and sat before Draco, who was eyeing him warily.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Give me my chart,” he demanded, “let me see what it says.” Harry handed it over, watching as Draco’s eyes flew along the paperwork. His brow furrowed, and his lips moved silently as he read the words, ‘cursed,’ ‘unknown reaction,’ ‘stabilized but unconscious.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you know your name?” Harry asked suddenly, dread coursing through him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course I do,” he scoffed, “It’s Draco Lucius Malfoy.” Harry’s face fell, and he shared a look with Ron and Hermione.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You just read that on your chart,” Harry tried to tug it away from him, “You don’t know what your name is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do too!” Draco’s voice was becoming higher, a clear sign he was panicking. “Draco Lucius Malfoy. It’s always been Draco Lucius Malfoy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve been going by Draco Black for years,” Ron said quietly, “When your father died, you renounced the Malfoy name. It was kind of a big deal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If I’ve been going by Draco Black, why does my chart say Draco Lucius Malfoy?” He was getting closer to hysteria, and Harry quickly motioned Ron and Hermione to leave. With worried looks, they left Harry alone in the room, shutting the door behind them. Harry took a deep breath and summoned a vial of Draught of Peace, handing it to the panicking Draco. He downed it in one go, and his breathing slowed down. His eyes glossed over, and a small smile tugged on his lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, Draco, let’s talk about what happened.” Harry flipped through the pages of the chart. “You work as a Curse Breaker for the Ministry of Magic. You were hit by a curse while on a job. You’ve been in a magically induced coma of your own doing for weeks. Your body is fine; you had a few lacerations and bruises that I healed when you first arrived, but it appears that you may have some form of amnesia. Is this making sense to you?” Draco slowly turned his head towards Harry, his face transforming into a sneer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not an invalid, Popcorn. I can understand English just fine.” Harry stared at him. Not only had he not seen the patented Malfoy Sneer in years, but had Draco just called him…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What did you call me?” Harry breathed, watching the emotions flit across Draco’s face. The Draught of Peace was doing its job, but it was a low dose, so that Draco could still have a clear mind - or, at least, as clear as the amnesia would let him have.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your name.” He was being flippant. It was a defense mechanism, Harry knew, one that he had seen many times during their friendship.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You think my name is Popcorn?” Harry wanted so badly to be amused, but in truth, he was heartbroken.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know your surname starts with a P, has two syllables, and that’s what I call you.” Draco glared daggers at Harry. “Are you even qualified to heal me? Where are your credentials?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Draco…” Harry tried again, “You usually ask for me to be your Healer. We live together, for fuck’s sake!” He was quickly losing his professionalism, and he tried to reign it back in as he dropped this newest bombshell on Draco.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Seems a bit unprofessional, living with your patient.” Draco crossed his arms and looked pointedly away from Harry. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry took a steadying breath. He knew that Draco was lashing out because he was scared, but didn’t want to admit it. He always hid his emotions, and had only recently begun to open up to Harry and sometimes Ron. The regression hit Harry like a brick wall. “Do you know who was just in the room with us?” He tried to switch the subject.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Weasley and his wife.” Draco said, a little too quickly. “Red hair, that’s obvious.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Which Weasley, specifically?” Harry prodded, flipping to a fresh page on the medical chart. “There are seven Weasley siblings. Which one was that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t…” Draco started, then snapped his eyes to Harry’s. “Weasley. The one who’s tall with red hair.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, you’re describing him very well.” Harry knew his voice sounded deadpan. “What’s his first name?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don't know, alright?” Draco exploded, “I don’t know him, I don’t know his wife, I don’t know me, but for whatever reason, I remember your stupid face and that I call you by your stupid surname. Is that what you want to hear?” Tears were shining in his eyes, but he was too proud to let them fall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What I want to hear is that you’re healthy and well,” Harry stood abruptly. “I’m going to have to tell Ron that you aren’t fit to work. I can have Blaise take you home with him, since he and Pansy are still listed as your emergency contacts and they can watch over you, or you can be released and come back to our home and I can have our friends drop in on you to check up on you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don't need a babysitter.” Draco attempted to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but the sheet became twisted. Giving an enraged cry, he kicked and shoved at the sheets until he was completely tangled up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I may be able to take a short leave of absence, and be your personal caretaker until we get everything figured out.” Harry acted as though he couldn’t see or hear Draco’s plight. “I’m sure Healer Douglas wouldn’t mind. I never take time away anyways.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco accepted defeat, and stopped fighting with the sheet. “Why would you do all of this for me?” He asked. “Why would you go above and beyond for me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry felt his heart clench. “We’re… friends, Draco. We've been friends for years. We've lived together for two years. You trust me to be your Healer, and you brew me potions for my patients. We get along really well. It’s up to you what you want to do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were interrupted by the door banging open, and Blaise sauntered into the room. “Heard my man was up and about. How’s it going, Draco?” Harry noticed Draco shrink back, a look of confusion on his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Blaise,” Harry greeted the tall man, drawing his attention away from Draco for a moment. “Draco’s just woken up, and he’s a little confused. Can you please keep your voice down?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, hello to you, Blaise.” Draco parroted, and Harry knew that he had picked up on Blaise’s name thanks to his own greeting. “I’m up. I’m awake. And I want tea.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Blaise snorted. “Even after being out for a month, you still are the same demanding arsehole. Sure, I’ll get your tea. Preference?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Earl grey, splash of milk, three sugars.” Harry smiled at Draco’s quick order. At least he still remembered his preferred drink. That was a good sign; he hadn’t lost all of his memories after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Back in a flash, princess.” Blaise winked at him and left the room for the second time that day. Draco turned to look at Harry, his face pale.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t want to go with him,” he said. “I want to go with you. To… to our house.” Draco looked down at his hands, clasped tightly together on top of the thin hospital sheet. “I don’t… I don’t feel like I know him at all. I don’t like how it feels when he’s around. I don’t want to be around him, or Weasley, or anyone, really. I… at least I feel like I know you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry nodded slowly. “I’ll get some time off work so you won’t be home alone.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That won’t be necessary,” Draco sniffed, his snark returning slightly. “I may not remember much, but I can take care of myself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you’re sure,” Harry shrugged. “It’s always an option.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course I’m sure.” He waved a hand, dismissing Harry. “Now, go get my discharge papers, Pirate. I’m signing myself out.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, Draco,” Harry sighed, “I’ll be back in a bit. I have other patients to check on.” He turned to the door, and he could have sworn he heard Draco whisper to himself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nope, Pirate’s not right either…”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Hermione asked, her hands encircling the hot mug of coffee in front of her. Harry hadn’t exactly lied to Draco; he looked in on his other two patients before locating Ron and Hermione to let them know what was going on. They were currently sitting at a secluded table in the hospital’s canteen, each of them nursing a coffee.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah mate, can you handle him coming home with you? He doesn’t remember anything, it sounds like.” Ron blew on his steaming cup before taking a tentative sip. “Tastes like mud. That’s how you know it’s good.” He sighed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He remembers me,” Harry said stubbornly, “and he wants to come home with me, to our house.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But he doesn’t remember…” Ron started, and Harry cut him off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, he doesn’t remember that we’re dating.” Harry’s face flushed bright red. “But that’s no matter.” He waved a hand in what he hoped was an offhand manner. “We were only dating for a month. Not that big of a deal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve been in love with him for years.” Ron said as he and Hermione shared a knowing look. “You were so excited when he asked you out, don’t you remember?” Harry did remember. He remembered how nervous Draco had been, how he had cooked dinner and burned it, but managed to save the night with a delicious Crème brûlée. He remembered Draco stuttering, so unlike himself, when he admitted that he had a crush on Harry, and would he be amiable to possibly accompanying him on a date at some point in time? Harry had responded with an enthusiast kiss, and that had been that - Harry Potter and Draco Black, dating. It was the best day of his life, to date.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not going to force him into a relationship he doesn’t even remember.” Harry said through gritted teeth. “That’s not why I invited him home with me. He lived there before we were dating too. It’s still his home.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you think he’d remember you if you two were… intimate?” Hermione’s tone indicated a clinical question, but her red ears gave away her embarrassment. Ron spat out the coffee he had just sipped, and Harry coughed loudly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We haven’t been intimate yet,” he spluttered, “We’ve made out and touched over clothes, but that’s it. We were taking it slow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, now you’re taking ten steps back, starting over from Draco Lucius Malfoy, Royal Prat with Daddy Issues.” Ron laughed, vanishing his coffee spit with a wave of his wand. “Think he’ll go back to being Draco Black without a struggle?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I certainly hope so.” Hermione finished her coffee and stood. “Giving himself his own autonomy was one of the major turning points in his life. He changed for the better. We can only hope it’ll come back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And I’m sure it will,” Harry banished his own mug back to the kitchens and pushed his chair away from the table. “Now that we’ve gossiped about my amnesiac boyfriend, I need to grab his discharge papers.” He was feeling irritated and didn’t quite know why. He knew that Ron and Hermione were being realistic, and hadn’t told him anything he didn’t already know, but still... </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re only looking out for you, Harry.” Hermione pulled him into a crushing embrace, as Ron nodded behind her. “We don’t want to see you hurt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry sighed deeply and returned the hug. “He won’t mean to hurt me, though. He’s my patient, first and foremost. I can put our relationship aside until he gets better.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If he gets better,” Ron muttered, earning him a smack on the arm from Hermione and a glare from Harry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em> When </em> he gets better. I’ll firecall you all later.” Striding towards the stairs, he paused when he heard Hermione’s tentative voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Should we… Do you need us to prep the house at all?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry could feel his face fall. All of their memories, clearly displayed around the house, both Muggle and Wizarding photos… “Yeah,” he said dejectedly. “If you could, please. Remove the more… couple-y ones from view and stash them in my… oh.” Yet another realization hit him. “Stash the photos in my room. Keep some of the ones of all of us up, though. And,” yet again, his face turned a bright crimson, “Can you move his stuff out of my room and back into his?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course, Harry,” Hermione said gently, “it’ll be done by the end of your shift.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Haven’t been intimate, my arse.” Harry heard Ron say, followed by another slap from Hermione. With a wave to his best friends, he went to collect the discharge papers and headed back to Draco’s room.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco was alone in his room by the time Harry returned, but the telltale signs of a Blaise Tantrum were there - the cup of tea Draco had requested was on the table by his bed, and there was a large splatter on the wall where it appeared someone had thrown their coffee.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I told him I wouldn’t be going with him.” Draco said calmly, picking up his tea and sipping it. “He told me I was being foolish, and that he and Violet could take care of me better than you could.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pansy,” Harry corrected, “Pansy is his wife.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Draco waved a hand. “Flower bitch. Whatever. He told me that we’ve been friends since childhood, and that I was throwing it all away for ‘The Golden Boy’.” Draco curled his fingers in the air, placing Harry’s title in air quotes. “The thing is, Peacock, I don’t remember Blaise at all, but I remember <em> you. </em> I find that rather odd.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Like I told you before, we’ve lived together for years.” Harry thrust the discharge papers at Draco. “You see me every day. We eat meals together. You hardly see Blaise, even before your accident.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then why aren’t you my emergency contact?” Draco demanded, the papers crumpling in his hands. “Why is everything so bloody difficult right now?” He looked down at the paperwork and his face grew dark. “Why does this paperwork say Draco Lucius Malfoy if I go by Draco Black?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry waved his wand and cast a silent diagnostic, verifying that Draco was fit to return home. His head still came back a deep red, but that was normal with amnesiac patients. Besides some muscle weakness from the supine position he was in while he was under, Draco was cleared for discharge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pepper, I demand you answer me!” Draco was getting flustered. Harry knew he hated being ignored, but he hadn’t done it on purpose.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re still legally Draco Lucius Malfoy so that you have access to the Malfoy Family Vaults. After your father died, you tried to get the name changed on them, but since they’d been in the Malfoy family for so long, it was impossible. You didn’t want to be known as Malfoy any longer, so you just started… using Black, and it ended up sticking.” Cancelling the diagnostic, he handed Draco a Biro. Draco began filling out the discharge forms, smiling wryly to himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So I finally wised up to how bad my father really was,” he muttered, talking to himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don’t follow or believe in his ideals, no.” Harry responded absently, throwing a silent Tergeo at the wall where Blaise threw his coffee.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t believe I asked for your opinion!” Draco was glaring at him again, but Harry was used to it. He stared back calmly, waiting for the moment when Draco would back down. He blinked, realizing his glare was doing nothing, and flushed slightly, turning back to the paperwork.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry didn’t need to be in the room with Draco while he was finishing the paperwork. With a quiet excuse, he slipped out of the door and went to find Head Healer Douglas, his boss. As usual, Healer Douglas was in his office, pouring over an enormous stack of paperwork.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Healer Potter!” He exclaimed, when he noticed Harry lingering in the doorway. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Waving him in, Healer Douglas cast a Silencing charm as Harry closed the door. “Gotta protect any and all confidentiality,” he said with a wink, “And I know you’re one of our most valuable assets. What’s going on in your brain?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need a sabbatical,” Harry blurted out before the nerve left him. Coughing, he glanced at Healer Douglas, who was looking at him with a knowing look in his eye.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This has to do with young Master Black, does it?” He asked, not unkindly, and Harry nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s awake from his coma and hell-bent on going home. The problem is that he remembers nothing.” Harry swallowed down the sadness he felt. “And I think it would be in his best interest if I possibly acted as his live-in Healer, just until we figure out what caused the amnesia.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Healer Douglas regarded Harry for a moment before giving a swift nod. “That sounds like the best course of action. And of course I’ll grant your sabbatical, Healer Potter. You’ve been an asset to St. Mungo's from the moment you finished your training and haven’t missed a single day of work since.” Rifling through the papers on his desk, he pulled out a blank sheet of parchment and tapped his wand to it. Ink bloomed from the tip, writing out the verbiage for Harry’s sabbatical. “Three months ought to do it, yeah?” He asked Harry absently, sliding the parchment across his desk. Harry blanched. He thought he’d be lucky to get two weeks off, but a full three months would be plenty of time to help Draco and possibly find a cure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Three months is perfect, sir. Thank you.” Harry tapped his own wand to the parchment, and after registering his Magical Signature, the document rolled itself up and disappeared with a ‘pop’. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’ll be down in HR soon enough. Go home, Healer Potter,” Healer Douglas urged, “You’re dismissed for the rest of today and for the next three months. Go home and rest, and fix up that handsome young man of yours.” He winked and returned to his paperwork, leaving Harry to mutter his thanks before he slipped out of the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Seeing Draco up and dressed in his immaculate clothing gave Harry pause as he peeked around the door frame. Draco was standing in front of the window, hands braced on the sill, staring longingly out at the enchanted mountains. As Harry watched, the mountains changed to a dark forest, then a Quidditch pitch, before it finally settled on a vast field of wildflowers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry desperately wanted to go up behind him and hold him. Draco looked so small and fragile in that moment - not only because of the weight loss he experienced during his coma, but also because the look on his face was desolate. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ready to go?” He asked, breaking the silence at last. Draco stiffened, then relaxed as he turned and faced Harry, an eyebrow raised.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Paperwork is filled out. Don’t you have to take it to your boss?” He held out the papers, and Harry tapped them with his wand, causing them to disappear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’ll show up in Healer Douglas’s office in a mo’. Do you have everything?” Harry glanced around the room, noticing for the first time that Draco didn’t really have anything of his own in the room, minus the clothing he was now wearing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“As far as I can figure, Peanut.” With a groan he sank onto the bed, gripping his head in his hands. “That’s not right either!” he practically yelled, “Why the fuck can’t I remember your name?” He looked up at Harry, and the tears that had threatened to fall earlier were making their angry way down his face. “You’re obviously important, or I would remember someone other than you. Why is it <em> your </em>stupid face I remember?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry wanted nothing more than to pull Draco into a tight hug, stroke his hair, and not let go until the tears stopped. He knew better, though. Draco was volatile at best, and when he didn’t remember their relationship or even what Harry’s name was, any form of unwanted touching would be playing with fire. “We’re important to each other,” he finally settled on, “We’re best mates. We live together. We tell each other everything. It’ll come back to you.” Harry promised, and he knew he wouldn’t stop until he had fixed Draco’s amnesia. “Everything will come back to you. I promise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sniffling, Draco scrubbed at his eyes, effectively ending his pity party. “Well with such a glowing offer, how am I to argue?” He pointed an accusatory finger at Harry. “You are not to tell me what your name is. I’ll figure it out, on my own. Got it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harry nodded, hope alive in his chest. “C’mon, Draco,” he held out a hand, “Let’s go home.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>“We live… here?” Draco was looking up at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, a sneer firmly in place. “Why didn’t we just Floo in?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry sighed inwardly. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. “Yes, we live here. I thought the walk would jar your memory. We’re usually not looking at the outside, though. Come inside before you start your sass.” He walked up the stairs, pointedly ignoring Draco’s mumbling behind him. Placing his hand on the door, he felt the warmth of the wards recognizing him and pushed, allowing Draco to follow him in before shutting the door behind him. With a wave of his wand, Harry lit the sconces on the wall and waited.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah, this is much better than the outside.” Draco sniffed, looking around. “We really live here?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yup,” Harry said warily, “Have for two years.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.” Draco crossed his arms. “I can tell you did the decorating.”</p><p> </p><p>Deep breaths, Harry told himself. He doesn’t remember, he has amnesia… To Draco, he said, “We haven’t gotten around to all the rooms yet. We mainly focused on our bedrooms, the kitchen, and the sitting room, since that’s where we spend most of our time.</p><p> </p><p>“It feels like the house… knows me?” Draco asked with uncertainty, shifting from foot to foot.</p><p> </p><p>“It should,” Harry said, “It’s the old Black residence.”</p><p> </p><p>“So then… this is my house, not yours.”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean, if you want to get technical,” Harry scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “My godfather - Sirius Black, your cousin - left it to me, so the house is mine, legally, but you live here with me, so it’s yours too.”</p><p> </p><p>“You confuse me.” Nose in the air, Draco looked around, grimacing at the dust he saw.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not trying to… look, you have amnesia, it usually makes sense to you!” Harry tried not to get worked up. It wouldn’t help either of them.</p><p> </p><p>Harry ventured further into the house with Draco trailing along behind him. Harry was glad to see that Ron or Hermione managed to take down any ‘couple’ pictures that had been displayed, though the house felt oddly cold without them. It had been Draco who insisted on putting the pictures up, declaring that if they were dating, everyone should know and that they should be reminded at every turn. Harry’s heart clenched as he saw the one picture that was left behind - a group shot of Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco. Draco had noticed it too, and walked over to it, picking up the delicate frame and studying the moving image.</p><p> </p><p>Ron and Hermione had their arms around each other’s shoulders and were looking at the photographer with wide smiles. Harry had his arm draped over Draco’s shoulder, and was laughing as Draco said something into his ear. </p><p> </p><p>“We look… cozy.” Draco replaced the photo and looked over his shoulder at Harry. Harry hoped that his face wasn’t too flushed.</p><p> </p><p>“That happens when you’ve lived together for two years.” He turned and began trudging up the stairs. “Let’s go, I’ll show you to your room.”</p><p> </p><p>As Harry pushed open the door at the top of the stairs, he made a mental note to thank Ron and Hermione for everything they did for him. Draco hadn’t been sleeping in his room since they started dating, and Harry knew it would have been as dusty as the rest of the house. It appeared that they had run a scouring charm across all surfaces, and even made up Draco’s bed with the vibrant purple silk sheets he favored.</p><p> </p><p>Draco walked slowly into the room, taking in the large canopy bed and the cherrywood dresser. “Now this,” he said, “is style. Make a note, Panda. Though,” He frowned, running a hand along the purple sheets, “These don’t feel quite right…”</p><p> </p><p>“You chose them,” Harry shrugged. “You said that purple is the color of royalty.”</p><p> </p><p>“And that is correct, but it still doesn’t feel…” He turned determinedly to face Harry. “Let’s see your room, then.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Take me to your room. Maybe it’ll help me remember.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why would my room help you remember?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, I’m not a healer like you. Something about recognizing your surroundings, or some shite.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry couldn’t argue with that. They had spent countless hours in his room, even before they started dating. It just ended up being a comfortable area for them to relax, have tea, and discuss their days.</p><p> </p><p>Draco followed him down the hall and stepped into the room Harry indicated. Harry’s room wasn’t messy, but it didn’t exude elegance like Draco’s did. It definitely looked lived in. Harry’s bed sheets were a brilliant gold, and the sun shining through the window made it look as though they were glowing. </p><p> </p><p>“Golden sheets for the Golden Boy,” Draco scoffed, moving to sit on the bed.</p><p> </p><p>Harry gritted his teeth. “Don’t call me that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Blaise called you that,” Draco absently pulled at a loose thread on Harry’s duvet. </p><p> </p><p>“Blaise isn’t my roommate and friend, and besides, I hate it.” He shuddered. “I hate anything that brings me back to the war and Voldemort.” </p><p> </p><p>At the name, Draco flinched. Even for someone with amnesia, the name seemed to bring back uncomfortable thoughts. “I think it’s high time for tea, don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow. “You do have good tea in this hovel, don’t you?”</p><p> </p><p><em> ‘Another defense mechanism of Draco’s that hadn’t disappeared </em> ,’ Harry thought to himself, ‘ <em> changing the subject.’ </em>Outloud, he said, “It’s not a hovel, and yes, your majesty, I have your damn Earl Grey.” </p><p> </p><p>“Get on with it, then.” Draco made a shooing motion with his hand as he laid back on Harry’s bed.</p><p> </p><p>At least this was familiar; Draco was frequently this demanding, even on his good days. “Right away, princess.” Harry said, and dodged as a pillow was thrown at his face. “What the hell, Draco?!”</p><p> </p><p>Pulling his wand from his arm holster, Draco set it on the nightstand and shot a scathing look at Harry. “Don’t call me that.” </p><p> </p><p>“Blaise called you that,” Harry shot his own words back at him, unable to keep the attitude from his voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I hate it.” Draco turned his back to Harry. “Makes me feel like you think I think I’m better than you.” He paused, considering his words. “Did that make sense? I believe so.”</p><p> </p><p>“You do think you’re better than most people,” Harry pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>Draco rolled his eyes. “That may be true, but even so, I see no tea. Get to it.”</p><p> </p><p>Understanding the dismissal, Harry stomped down the stairs and bustled into the kitchen, slamming the kettle onto the stove. He knew he needed to keep his temper in check; Draco had amnesia, for Merlin’s sake! If he couldn’t get through this, maybe they shouldn’t be dating. Frustration coursed through him; partially at Draco, partially at himself. He knew that Draco was an absolute git, full of sass, but beneath it all, he was a relatively decent bloke with a good sense of humor. </p><p> </p><p>Two years of being roommates with Draco Black. The entire situation was odd, but they had made it work. It had started, strangely enough, with Ron and Draco’s unusual camaraderie. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <b>~*~*~</b>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Ron became Head Auror and noticed that when his Aurors went on raids, the novice Curse Breakers were sent, even when the raid called for a Dark Arts Specialist. Draco was the only Dark Arts Specialist in the British Ministry, and he rarely got any field time. After some digging, Ron discovered that Draco was shunned and shuffled to the back, rarely allowed to leave his office and was more often than not stuck doing paperwork.</p><p> </p><p>After one too many ruined raids, he stormed into Draco’s office and demanded his assistance. There was a cursed mansion that belonged to one of the old Death Eater families, and Ron wanted him at the forefront to see him in action. </p><p> </p><p>Draco had gone above and beyond Ron’s expectations, and had secured a spot for himself in nearly every Dark raid from that point on. Ron sang his praises to Harry and, to his surprise, began inviting him out to pub nights.</p><p> </p><p>Harry was still in the midst of training for his Healer’s license, and had stopped attending the weekly pub nights. He was working long hours, taking over shifts, anything he could to prove himself as his own person, not just Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived.</p><p> </p><p>It was a Thursday night, after a twelve hour shift running the Spell Damage Ward, when Ron and Draco had crashed through his floo, arm in arm, laughing at something or another. Harry was startled from his doze on the couch when they stumbled out.</p><p> </p><p>“Harry, mate, wake up!” Ron shouted, slapping a hand across his back, “This is a momentous occasion! Draco Lucius Malfoy is no more!” He threw a hand across his forehead dramatically. “No, my friend, the blond git you see before you is none other than Draco Black; no middle name because who needs them?!” Draco was beaming with such an un-Malfoy like expression that Harry went along with whatever they were playing at. He settled Ron on his couch, and offered Draco the spare bedroom to sleep the liquor off. </p><p> </p><p>Draco had babbled the entire time Harry was gathering fresh sheets, so by the time the bed was made and ready for sleeping, he was wide awake. He sat at the foot of the bed, listening to Draco prattle on about how the raids had been going and how much he enjoyed his job now that he was allowed on the field. He asked Harry questions, too - why he had wanted to be a healer, and listened with a serious expression on his face as Harry explained that he wanted to be someone known for something else than the defeat of Voldemort. “You were always just Potter to me,” Draco said seriously, “except when you saved us all. You’re still just Potter, only a lot more fit.”</p><p> </p><p>This Draco was completely different from the Malfoy he knew from Hogwarts, and he relished in the changes he saw. Granted, they were all adults now, and Ron had told him that Draco was an alright bloke, but seeing it with his own eyes solidified things in Harry’s mind. Draco recounted a story where he protected unsuspecting Muggles from cursed objects that were distributed to antique shops, bragging about the matron of the shop inviting him for tea quite regularly. He told Harry about giving all of the Malfoy House Elves clothes - “Really, Potter, it was quite pathetic, they were bawling but I was very firm with them. They were free elves, and free elves could decide what they wanted to do. They could stay at the Manor and assist mother, or they could go to Hogwarts or anywhere else, for that matter, and find work. They stayed at the Manor, of course… they’re very loyal. But they’re free, and that’s all that matters.”</p><p> </p><p>As the night was finally winding down, Draco yawned and laid back against the pillows. “I don’t want to go back to the Manor,” he admitted to Harry quietly, the room so dark that Harry couldn’t see his expression. “Sure, mother is there, and I love her dearly, but I don’t feel comfortable in the place that he… that Voldemort claimed.” </p><p> </p><p>That was all it took. Harry may have been dead on his feet, but he always did have a thing for saving people. “Move in here,” he blurted out, “with me, I mean. You can see I have more than enough room. This room can be yours. You can do whatever you want to it, and the rest of the house within reason.” Rubbing his eyes, his mouth split open in a jaw-cracking yawn. “This is the ancestral Black home. You’re Draco Black now. Sirius may have left it to me, but it’s just as much yours as it is mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“I would like to hold you to that sentiment, Potter,” Draco responded, his eyes closed, “But right now, you are high on exhaustion, and I am still very much inebriated.” He turned over, snuggling into the pillows. “Ask me tomorrow when I’m sober.” The soft snores signaled that he had fallen asleep, and Harry padded out of the room and into his own, thinking about what he had just offered Draco.</p><p> </p><p>Sleep didn’t come to him that night, but at least he had the next few days off to think about things. He had already decided that Draco needed to live with him, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. </p><p> </p><p>Knowing that Ron, at the very least, would be needing a hangover potion and a fry up, Harry got up early and made his way into the kitchen, setting the kettle to boil and summoning two hangover potions from his stash. </p><p> </p><p>Ron stumbled in and plonked himself into a chair, muttering a “Thanks, mate,” as he downed his hangover potion. His face cleared as the potion worked it’s magic, and Harry decided to drop the bomb on him.</p><p> </p><p>“I invited Draco to move in with me.” He felt his face redden and he turned back to the stove, poking at the eggs he had just cracked into the pan. “He, uh, was talking last night about not wanting to go back to the Manor, and it kind of slipped out… but I thought about it and I think it would be good for him to move in here.” Maybe if he spoke fast enough, Ron wouldn’t have time to object. </p><p> </p><p>To his surprise, Ron nodded along with his words. “It would probably be good for both of you,” he mused, “I’ve noticed that he’s not on the top of his game when he’s spent an extended period at the Manor. And you’re lonely, but you won’t admit it.” Ron grinned at him as Harry glared over his shoulder. “He has changed, for the better. He’s still Malfoy, but he’s more Draco now.”</p><p> </p><p>The kettle whistled, and Harry hurried to remove it from the burner, but it was too late. The tell-tale noises of an angry, hungover Draco began to float down the stairs. </p><p> </p><p>“…and while I understand that tea is a perfectly lovely breakfast item, you would think that some people would have the common decency to wait until all parties are awake to begin the brew…!” Draco paused in the doorway, hair disheveled, glaring at Ron and Harry. </p><p> </p><p>“Potion?” Harry offered weakly, pointing to the remaining vial on the table. Draco stalked over to it and downed it in one go, throwing himself into the chair opposite of Ron.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning, sunshine,” he said brightly, laughing as Draco glowered at him. “Sleep well?”</p><p> </p><p>“You and your bloody shots last night,” Draco growled, “knew I shouldn’t have trusted a red head.”</p><p> </p><p>“You had a great time, don’t lie!” Ron nodded in thanks as Harry set two mugs of tea before them, and pushed the sugar bowl towards Draco. “Now drink your tea and stop being rude to your roommate.”  </p><p> </p><p>The silence was palpable. Draco turned to face Harry, an odd expression on his face. “So.. you did mean it?” he asked, “It wasn’t just some pity party Potter saving people thing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, it probably was,” Ron said cheerfully, “But that’s our Harry. Doesn’t say a damn thing he doesn’t mean. Bet he can’t wait to wake up to your pointy face every morning!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure our schedules won’t coincide that much,” Harry began plating the fry-up, giving each of them a healthy helping of toast, eggs, sausage, and beans. “We won’t have to see each other all that often…”</p><p> </p><p>“Au contraire, Potter,” Draco was smug, “I work a terribly boring nine to five, and while your schedule may be hectic during the training days, I know that you’ll probably end up working four days, twelve hour shifts, with three days off a week. Does that sound correct?” </p><p> </p><p>Harry stared. He had no idea Draco knew so much about St. Mungo’s scheduling and training. “Yeah, a bit.” He sat down and tucked into his food, not waiting to see what the other two did. “I could be doing overnights, though. I may be coming in when you’re going to work.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excellent!” Draco picked at the food on his plate, delicately spearing a bite of eggs and inspecting it before popping it into his mouth. “You’ll be able to pick me up a pastry when you come home in the morning, and I’ll be able to bring you dinner when I get off. Seems fair to me.” He took another bite of eggs, larger this time. “Potter, where did you learn how to cook? I mean, a fry-up isn’t my personal breakfast choice, but these eggs are divine!”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s all yours, now!” Ron mouthed to Harry, grinning as he began to shovel food into his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Draco brought his things over that very evening, and they began to figure out a routine that worked for the both of them. Draco was high maintenance and prissy, needing things to be in their place, and Harry was more of a ‘let things fall where they land.’ It caused several arguments, but nothing they couldn’t handle. In the end, Harry was allowed a few items that had a free pass to lay around the house as long as they were picked up in an appropriate amount of time, and Draco was allowed to re-organize anything that wasn’t in its proper place.</p><p> </p><p>They evened each other out, to the point where they’d spend long hours just talking, sharing a drink in front of the fire, or even in comfortable silence; Draco looking through case files, Harry reading the latest Quidditch magazine.</p><p> </p><p>There was another slight hiccup that Harry hadn’t foreseen - he was fully aware that he was bisexual, and leaned more towards the male persuasion, but hadn’t come out to anyone yet. With Draco around, he couldn’t ignore it. Draco was a raging homosexual, and mentioned it at every twist and turn. He flirted with any male who came near him, Ron included. </p><p> </p><p>He explained it to Harry one night, when they were both a few drinks in. “It’s not that I see anything in these straight men I flirt with,” he said, “but it’s fun to see their reaction and to just… be myself. I’ve known I was like this since, oh, I don’t know, when I had ballroom dance lessons and all I wanted to do was be dipped and wooed off my feet!” He drained his glass of Firewhiskey, and summoned the bottle with a lazy wave of his wand. Topping off his glass, he offered and poured another two fingers into Harry’s glass as well. “Flirting with Ron is fun because sometimes he’ll play back. Especially when we’re in front of new recruits.” He giggled. “It’s so funny to watch their faces, when they’ve already heard that he’s engaged to Hermione. They think I’m his secret gay work lover!”</p><p> </p><p>“Imagine that.” Harry’s throat was tight. He took another drink of his Firewhiskey, coughing as the spicy liquid hit his tongue. </p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t <em> bother </em>you, does it, Potter?” Draco asked, “That I have a fondness for people with bits like yours?”</p><p> </p><p>“Er, no, it doesn’t.” Harry cleared his throat. “Would be a bit hypocritical of me, wouldn’t it?” </p><p> </p><p>It was Draco’s turn to cough on his liquor. “Potter… you aren’t… you never said… you are...?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m bisexual,” Harry corrected him, “And erm, no one knows, so can you keep it quiet, please?”</p><p> </p><p>Draco nodded, smiling slightly into his cup, and Harry was sure he had made a mistake in telling him. To his surprise, Draco was one of the most supportive people when it came to Harry’s choices, choosing to flirt with him just as much (if not more) than he flirted with Ron.</p><p> </p><p>“Healer Douglas kept you late, darling, or were you showing the new recruits the ropes?” He’d ask when Harry arrived home even five minutes late.</p><p> </p><p>“Shut it, you, or you’re not getting any curry.” Harry would pretend to gripe, but he loved their dynamic. He loved it so much that he didn’t realize he had fallen hard for Draco Black, formerly known as Draco Lucius Malfoy.</p><p> </p><p>Luckily enough, Draco wasn’t one to keep his mouth shut when he wanted something, so after a solid sixteen months of Harry pining, he was surprised and delighted when Draco asked him out.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <b>~*~*~</b>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The whistling kettle brought Harry out of his reverie, and he quickly poured the hot water over the tea leaves and let it steep as Draco liked. A splash of milk and three sugars later, he levitated the steaming cup and went back upstairs to find that Draco had fallen asleep on his bed, curled around the same pillow he had thrown at Harry.</p><p> </p><p>Draco looked angelic when he slept. The hard lines faded, and the soft blond hair framed his face in an angelic way. He may have been a ‘pointy git’ like Ron called him, but these moments that only Harry was allowed to see made him fall even harder for Draco Black. </p><p> </p><p>Harry knew it was too soon, though he knew what he felt for Draco was nothing short of love. He wasn’t keen on ruining their new relationship by saying it too soon, so he kept it to himself. Draco seemed to be the same way, not wanting to take their physical relationship too quickly. “I want to court you first,” he had said, his hands curling into Harry’s hair as he brushed small kisses over the full expanse of his face. “I want to do this one thing right.” </p><p> </p><p>Harry set the tea on the nightstand and cast a Stasis charm over it. Glancing at the sleeping man, he made up his mind and let himself go into Healer mode. Another wave of his wand and the diagnostic bubble encased Draco, showing him that while his aches and pains were relatively non-existent, the red bubble loomed over his head, indicating the amnesia was still very much present.</p><p> </p><p>With a sigh, he decided to let Draco sleep. If he had fallen asleep in the short amount of time it took him to make a cup of tea, he obviously needed it. Pulling the sheet up around Draco’s shoulders, Harry tucked him in and left the room, feeling lost.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted so desperately to help Draco, but he had no idea where to start. Being an injury Healer was easy; the diagnostic spell was almost foolproof and there was a potion or a tincture for any physical malady. Brain injuries and damage, though… those were a whole different story.</p><p> </p><p>Not quite knowing how he got there, he found himself in front of the fire, a pinch of floo powder between his fingers. Throwing it into the flames, he called out, “Granger Grotto!” and stuck his head through. At once, he was able to see into Ron and Hermione’s shared living area, and waited for his friends to join him. </p><p> </p><p>“Thought we’d be seeing you a lot sooner,” Ron said cheerfully as he came into view. “You want to come through?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, Draco is sleeping and I don’t want him to wake up and not be able to find me.” Harry sighed and adjusted his position. Floo talk wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was the easiest at the moment. </p><p> </p><p>“Should he be sleeping?” Hermione appeared, holding a glass of wine. “I read somewhere that it wasn’t good for coma patients to sleep after being under for so long.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe not for normal comas, but the magically induced ones aren’t that strict.” Harry shrugged. “If he’s tired, he should sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“How’re his stats looking?” Ron knelt in front of his hearth and looked down at Harry. “Still greens and yellows?”</p><p> </p><p>“His body is normal and he doesn’t appear to be in any pain, thankfully. It’s just his memory that’s affected.”</p><p> </p><p>“I checked out some books from the library!” Hermione waved her wand and a stack of heavy books landed neatly next to her. “I don’t mind doing some research. It’s been a while since I’ve read a good book.”</p><p> </p><p>Ron gave Hermione a sideways glance. “‘Mione, you read a book this morning!”</p><p> </p><p>Hermione coughed, and Harry could tell that she was uncomfortable. “Yes, well, that was about conception, not about curses.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you guys finally going to start that family you’ve been talking about?” Harry asked mildly, knowing that it had been a sore subject for a while. Ron was all about having kids, but Hermione had always been on the fence.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Hermione admitted, “But not right away. I just wanted to check some things about timing, and nutrients, and…”</p><p> </p><p>“She wanted to be sure she’d be ovulating at a certain time so we don’t end up with a certain zodiac sign.” Ron interrupted. “C’mon, he didn’t call to ask about our life, he wants help with his… which is weird, in and of itself.” He stared pointedly at Harry. “Usually he plays the martyr and does everything on his own.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry looked away, embarrassment coursing through him. Of course Ron and Hermione knew how he was and how he acted; they had been friends since they were eleven. He hadn’t expected Ron to call him out on it though.</p><p> </p><p>“Cheer up, mate. We’ll get through this.” Ron rested his chin on his hand and thought for a moment. “You know, I could ask the Unspeakables if they know anything about these kinds of mind curses. I think they have a specific room where they learn about and test things like this…”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Harry said quickly, “the Unspeakables creep me out, and I don’t want them crawling through Draco’s head.”</p><p> </p><p>“They creep me out too, mate, but I’m at a loss. You’re at a loss, and you’re his Healer!” Ron ran a hand through his hair. “They’ve worked with Draco before, and they know about the raid on the Crabbe residence because they asked to see my files.”</p><p> </p><p>“If we can’t figure something out during my sabbatical, then fine. You can talk to them.” Harry sighed. “But not before then! I have three months. I have to figure something out.”</p><p> </p><p>“POISON!” A voice bellowed from behind Harry, making him jump. “Poison, where in the name of Merlin have you wandered off to? You’ve abandoned me, you absolute cretin, and I demand compensation in the form of supper!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that sounds normal,” Ron laughed, and Harry shot him a scathing look that didn’t hide the fondness he felt for his amnesiac boyfriend. “Go tend to him, Poison. We’ll do our reading here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Bye, Harry!” Hermione called as he shut the floo connection, standing gracelessly and stretching out his sore muscles. He turned to the entrance of the sitting room, facing the sleep-rumpled Draco, who at least had the decency to look sheepish.</p><p> </p><p>“So… Poison isn’t it, either,” he said weakly, and Harry shook his head. Draco sighed in defeat. “I’ll get it one of these attempts.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry walked past him, trying to ignore his brain, which was screaming at him to pull Draco into a tight embrace and make him feel better. Once he reached the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and peered inside. “What are you hungry for?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t know.” Stubborn and indecisive as ever. “Do we even have anything palatable?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry chose to ignore the quip. “Looks like you were marinating some lamb before you were in St. Mungo’s. Statis charm is intact, so it should still be good.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Feel like some lamb shanks? I can make them.” </p><p> </p><p>Draco sat down primly at the table, brushing invisible crumbs away. “If I was the one marinating the lamb, wouldn’t it make sense that I would be the one to cook it?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry cleared his throat. “Er, not exactly. Our dynamic is usually more like, you figure out the flavors, and I cook the food. You’ve got a more ‘refined palate’ and I have more experience with fire.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oddly enough, that makes sense.” Draco watched as Harry flitted around the kitchen. He could feel Draco’s eyes boring into him, but he chose to ignore it as he seared the lamb shanks before putting them into the oven.</p><p> </p><p>“Asparagus, I think,” Harry said, somewhat to himself, “And I know I have the mint jelly somewhere around here…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s in the fridge, behind the…” Draco faltered, “behind the cabbage.” He stared at Harry, wide-eyed. “How did I know it was there?” He whispered, looking alarmed.</p><p> </p><p>Harry opened the refrigerator and shifted a few vegetables… and there, behind a large nappa cabbage, was Draco’s jar of homemade mint jelly. He held it up silently for Draco to see. “Things are coming back,” he said, hope leaking into his voice. “You’re starting to remember bits and pieces of our life. That’s progress.”</p><p> </p><p>He cooked the remainder of the dinner in silence. Draco offered no further assistance, and Harry understood. It must be uncomfortable to not know who your roommate is, who any of your friends are, but remember trivial pieces of useless information, such as where the jelly was stored.</p><p> </p><p>Placing a steaming plate in front of Draco, Harry sat down in the opposite chair and picked up a fork, spearing an asparagus. He watched as Draco elegantly cut a piece of lamb and scrutinized it, before placing it in his mouth. A moan of pleasure, burst through his lips, and Harry flushed. He didn’t want to hear those noises from Draco, not at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>“I truly am a master of flavors,” Draco declared, cutting another slice of lamb. “You’re going to need a journal for all of the advice I give you, Pasta. Mark my words.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmhm,” Harry nodded his agreement, though his mind was a thousand miles away, thinking of other ways he could potentially jog Draco’s memory. If he remembered where the mint jelly was, maybe he’d be able to remember other things. If only he could come up with a solid plan to help him remember…</p><p> </p><p>“So,” Draco wiped his mouth and pushed his plate away. “We’ve lived together for… two years, did you say?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry swallowed his mouthful of lamb and nodded again. “Yup. Two years.”</p><p> </p><p>Draco lowered his eyes to his hands and picked absently at a fingernail. “Then you are well aware of my inclination towards the male gender?”</p><p> </p><p>Dropping his fork with a clatter, Harry started at Draco, who resolutely refused to meet his eyes. “Do you… are you referring to the fact that you’re gay, Draco?” He asked incredulously. </p><p> </p><p>Without raising his eyes, Draco flinched, but nodded slowly. “I… remember that I had to keep it to myself, and I’m not sure of our relationship beyond ‘roommates’, so I just wanted to be clear on everything in case I overstepped my bounds.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s…” Harry paused, thinking of how to word what he wanted to say. “I guess I can understand that. But ever since you renounced the Malfoy name,” he grinned, “You’ve been unapologetically out and gay. You flirt with Ron, with me, with your other colleagues at work…” Harry found himself laughing; the absurdity of explaining Draco’s actions to Draco himself was hilarious. “You are gay, and proud of being gay. Nothing wrong with that.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, are we shagging then?” </p><p> </p><p>Of course that was the next question Draco would ask. Harry felt his face grow hot and he took a drink of water to give him time to think. The easy answer to that was no, they were not shagging. The more difficult, albeit more honest answer, would be ‘not yet’. “No,” Harry finally settled on, “We’re not shagging.”</p><p> </p><p>An appraising look swept Harry from top to bottom as Draco looked him over. “Pity.” He stood, dropping his napkin onto the table. “Are you quite sure? You look rather flustered.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I’m sure.” Harry could hear his voice waver. “That’s not the kind of relationship we have.”</p><p> </p><p>“Very well.” Pushing in his chair, Draco turned to leave the room. “I’ll be in my room, then. Please don’t disturb me, for I have quite a lot of thinking to do. Thank you for cooking the food I marinated.” And with that, Draco disappeared up the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>Harry waited until he heard the door close before rising unsteadily to his feet. He hurt. He knew it was best to keep their relationship platonic at this point, especially since it would feel like he was taking advantage of Draco if he made any sort of move on him. That didn’t make it any less painful to watch him walk away without a goodnight hug and kiss.</p><p> </p><p>Even though they had only been together for a month - two months, technically, if he counted the month Draco was in his coma - Draco had always been it for Harry. Breaking up with Ginny was easy; neither of them had feelings for the other, and it was amiable. She knew about his obsession with Draco; anyone who went to Hogwarts could see it, even if Harry hadn’t realized it until after Voldemort was gone. Living with Draco had been eye opening, and dating him had been a dream. A dream that was now slowly fading as Harry poured himself a glass of Fire Whiskey and made his way to sit in front of the still burning fire.</p><p> </p><p>He lost track of time as he stared into the fire, thinking about the could-have-beens. He didn’t remember falling asleep, and he didn’t remember Draco stealing down to cover him with a blanket as he slept.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <span>“Persephone!” A hiss in his ear startled Harry awake the next morning. He blinked, his vision blurry, realizing that somehow, his glasses had been removed during the night. “Persephone, I’m hungry, and your pantry is dreadfully bare. I demand you awaken at once!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘M up, Draco,” he said sleepily, groping around for his glasses. A hand pushed them on, and Draco’s face came sharply into view, his nose mere inches from Harry’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, there you are.” Draco stood and began to walk to the kitchen. “Now, as I was saying, the pantry is bare, and you have a guest who is hungry. Get to it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rising with a groan, Harry stretched and rolled his head, trying to get rid of the kinks from sleeping on the hard couch. “Coming,” he grumbled, “keep your knickers on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco was already seated at the table, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “What do you suggest we do about the breakfast situation?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is no ‘situation’,” Harry responds, setting the kettle to boil. “I’ll make some tea, and then we can order something or I can go and pick something up. What are you in the mood for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tapping a finger to his lips, Draco considered the question. “Some sort of pastry? Maybe some chocolate croissants or scones?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You and your sweets.” Harry pulled down two mugs and spooned some Earl Grey tea leaves into each cup. “Tell you what, love. I’ll go to the bakery you like down the road if you agree to stay here and not touch anything.” He paused, waiting for a snarky reply from Draco, but it was not forthcoming. Glancing at the blond, he saw a smirk upon the aristocratic face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love, huh?” He purred, “you called me love. Are you quite sure you and I aren’t…” He wiggled his eyebrows, and Harry groaned in frustration.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m still half asleep. Leave me alone, you berk.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a laugh, Draco accepted the offered mug of tea and began pouring the milk. “Just messing about. You are entirely too easy to rile up.” He took a sip of the steaming liquid, a small groan escaping his lips. “Did I teach you how to properly brew a cuppa? Because this is divine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As a matter of fact, you did.” Harry sat down across from him with his own mug of tea, and rubbed at his still sleep-crusted eyes. “It is entirely too early, what the actual-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you work today?” Draco interrupted, setting his teacup down and gazing up at Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry flushed. He hadn’t exactly told Draco about his sabbatical, and didn’t think now was a good time to explain his reasoning. “No, I’m off,” he said warily, “Why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are we doing today?” Draco stood and paced over to the refrigerator, peering inside as though something may have appeared. “We need to get groceries. The lack of food in this house is abysmal.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not wanting to explain to Draco that the reason there wasn’t food in the house is because they hadn’t been there in over a month, Harry sighed. “We can get groceries later. I was planning on meeting up with Hermione to research this… this curse or whatever it is that is messing with your memory. Do you mind?” He held up his wand and Draco stilled, then nodded, allowing Harry to cast the diagnostic charm. The results hadn’t changed; Draco still had the red around his mind. With a sigh, Harry cancelled the charm and took a sip of his tea. “Why don’t we get some breakfast, and then afterwards I can head to Hermione’s. Does that suit his highness?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco looked aghast. “You expect me to sit here, in this moody abode, pining after you while you are off galavanting with your friends? I think not, Persimmon. I will dress and get my traveling cloak, and we shall be off together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thought you had my name narrowed down to two syllables,” Harry muttered into his mug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was running out of words.” Draco’s haughty mask slipped for a second before reappearing, a smirk on his lips. “I told you, I’ll get it soon enough, and I will figure it out on my own.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So when you heard Hermione and the others call me Harry…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, that’s your name, but that’s not what I call you,” he insisted, “And therein lies the mystery of the whole thing. Why don’t I call you Harry? Why do I know that I call you something different?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why is it such a big deal?” Harry countered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because there has to be a reason I remember you and you alone.” Draco closed the refrigerator and  stalked out of the kitchen. “I’m having a shower, and then I’ll be ready to go. You best not keep me waiting!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry waited, listening to Draco’s footsteps as they faded up the stairs, and rested his head on his arms. This was becoming a lot harder than he anticipated. He didn’t mind Draco coming with him to Hermione’s, but the easy banter they had fostered over the years was absent from their interactions, and it was hard to remember that, technically, this Draco was not </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>Draco.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a groan, he pushed himself away from the table, taking a moment to stretch his sore muscles before setting his and Draco’s mugs in the sink. He figured he had a good hour before Draco was done with his showering routine, but he didn’t want to risk invoking the wrath of an irritated Draco. Being on the receiving end one too many times caused Harry to think about his actions cautiously. And with that thought… he quickly conjured a Patronus and sent it to Hermione, apologizing and asking her to pick something up from the local bakery for them all to eat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After watching his Patronus canter off to Hermione, he trudged up the stairs and listened quietly outside of the bathroom door, hearing Draco humming to himself. At least that was still normal - Draco always liked singing in the shower, much to Harry’s chagrin, especially when he had gotten home from a shift and just wanted to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Padding into his own room, Harry discarded the clothes he had worn the previous day - falling asleep in front of the fire wasn’t his best idea. He felt disgusting, and knew he wouldn’t have time to take a shower after Draco was done. Thankfully, the ensuite’s water didn’t directly connect to the bathroom that Draco was using, so he was able to wash his face and give a cursory freshening charm to the rest of his body. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work for the day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All clothing removed, Harry walked naked back into his bedroom and began rummaging in his drawers for a clean pair of pants and his most comfortable joggers. If he was going to spend the day researching, he was going to be comfortable, damn it. He had pulled on his pants and joggers and had an old t-shirt in his hand when a voice from behind him made him jump.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Must you dress like a vagrant?” The voice drawled, and Harry turned, pulling the shirt over his head, to glare at Draco.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m dressing comfortably, and I suggest you do the…” he trailed off, taking in Draco’s skin, flushed pink from the scalding water, as his fingers made quick work of the buttons on the crisp collared shirt he had chosen to wear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dress for success, Pokey.” Draco paused, and laughed to himself. “That sounds more like a house elf name. Apologies, I’ll try harder next time.” He had finished the buttons, and swiftly tucked the tails of his shirt into his trousers. He looked good, and all Harry could think about was ripping the buttons off his shirt…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you really think you’ll be okay wearing that, then be my guest.” He bit his tongue, turning away and giving himself a once-over in the mirror. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>looked comfortable, no doubt about that, but Draco… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco looked like sex on legs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, then.” Harry grabbed his rucksack and nudged Draco to the side, feet barely touching the stairs as he made his way into the drawing room. Scooping up Draco’s health files, he shrank them down and placed them into his bag, along with his Healer badge and Draco’s Ministry pass. He wanted to make sure he had all of the information readily available if Hermione had any questions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you decide where we’re going for breakfast?” Draco was studying his nails, not looking at Harry. “And when we’ll find time to shop?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can call a food delivery service for the groceries, if you’re that worried about it,” Harry griped, “And I told Hermione to grab a selection from the local bakery. The less time we waste, the better, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I supposed.” Draco walked over to the fireplace and stirred it, tossing a few new logs in for good measure. “Are we ready to go, then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded. “Very nearly. Do you need to grab anything else?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got my traveling cloak, my wand, and I just saw you put my medical files in your sack. Oh.” Draco’s face fell. “I know we’re going to Hermione’s but… what’s her husband’s name, just so I don’t appear… off-kilter?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They know you’ve lost your memory,” Harry said gently, “But it’s Ron. And he’s also your boss, and one of your good friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ron and Hermione, Ron and Hermione.” Draco repeated to himself. “Easy enough to remember, I suppose.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most of the time, you call him by his last name, Weasley,” Harry laughed, “And sometimes you make up ridiculous names for him. Just depends on your mood.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like something I’d do.” Draco smirked. “Well, lead the way then…” he gestured, and Harry grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from the jar on the mantle, throwing it into the flames.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Granger Grotto!” Harry pronounced clearly, and he was whisked away, his elbows knocking against the brick. He tumbled out of the Floo, brushing ash from his joggers as he stood and smiled apologetically at Hermione, who stared pointedly at the mess on her rug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just got back from Nelson’s,” she huffed, her arms full of pastry boxes, “They thought I was having some sort of house party, so they gave me all of this as well as a few carafes of coffee and orange juice. Will that be enough to please the Princess?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I heard that.” Draco stepped out of the fireplace, brushing a few stray ashes from his sleeves, “And I’ll have you know that… yes. It sounds like it will suffice.” He glanced around the living room, confused. “Where’s Ron?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your boyfriend is at work,” Hermione responded absentmindedly, banishing the boxes of pastries into the next room. “We can eat first, and then we can… what?” Hermione faltered as Draco stared at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My what now?” Draco said faintly, and Hermione laughed, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Draco, I forgot,” she apologized, “You always flirt with Ron, to the point where anyone who has ever seen you with or around him assumes that you two are together. It’s quite entertaining, I assure you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I… I see.” Draco frowned, but it quickly smoothed out as he looked over to Harry. “Shall we begin? I’m hungry and I'm sure you both have a lot to discuss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Draco had turned and strode into the library, where the boxes from Nelson’s were resting on a side table. He watched as Draco lifted the lid of a box and looked over the pastries, noticing the slight tremor in his hand as he selected a chocolate croissant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is he okay?” Hermione whispered, moving closer to Harry so she wouldn’t be overheard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“As okay as he can be with the memory loss.” Harry replied with a sad shrug, walking into the library and placing a hand on Draco’s hip as he leaned over and grabbed himself a bagel. Draco started at the touch, and slid swiftly away to sit on the plush couch, spreading a napkin across his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you figured anything out yet?” Draco asked before taking a delicate bit of his croissant. “Anything that would be helpful to whatever it is that’s wrong with me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have several hypotheses, but I can’t guarantee that I’m right on any of them.” Hermione poured herself a glass of orange juice and sipped at it, motioning towards the large tomes with several pages marked. “It would be easier if we could go into your mind and draw the information out, but…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would be highly dangerous and, as his Healer, I will not allow it.” Harry interrupted firmly, giving Hermione a harsh look. Snagging himself a scone, he sat at the opposite end of the couch as Draco, wanting to be near him but not wanting to crowd into his space. “Where do you think we should actually begin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione began flitting around the room, pointing at books and giving brief explanations as to why they may come in handy. Books about dark curses, memory charms, and even a few medical volumes and files were among the throng.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How did you acquire all of these?” Draco asked curiously, finishing the last bite of his croissant and tapping his mouth gently with his napkin. “Some of these books look as though they’re as old as dust.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Erm, well,” Hermione looked embarrassed, “I have access to the Ministry library, so I may have borrowed a bunch from there, and I had some from another case back in the day that stumped healers and I just wanted to read about it, and see…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ron has scars from The Brain Room in the Ministry,” Harry explained to a confused looking Draco. “He grabbed one of the Brains and it wrapped around his arms, leaving him with a ton of scars, because thoughts can leave deep scars. Hermione thought there could be a way to remove them, or at least make them… less prominent. Since thoughts and memory are tied together…” he trailed off, looking at Hermione helplessly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought maybe we’d be able to find a spell or potion to remove the scars.” Hermione finished. “I couldn’t, we couldn’t, but I kept the books, in case I needed them.” She gave Draco a sad smile. “Guess it was a good thing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Settling down in an overstuffed armchair, she grabbed a stack of what looked like patient files and began to flick through them. Harry busied himself with the medical books, and Draco picked up a large and evil looking publication entitled ‘When Memory Turns Deadly’ that happened to be sitting beside him on the armrest. They sat in relative silence for a long time, occasionally speaking out loud when they found something of interest. Harry only got up once, to get Draco’s medical files and triplicate them, so that each of them had a copy they could refer to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The silence was deafening, but they worked and read for hours, never coming any closer to a conclusion. Hermione’s hair got more and more frizzy as she tugged and pulled at her curls while she was reading, finally excusing herself to take a quick walk to clear her head. Harry closed the book he was looking through with a snap, and glanced over at Draco. After their discussion about Ron and The Brain Room, he hadn’t said another word, and just kept looking more and more upset. His eyebrows were scrunched together, and he hadn’t turned a page of his book in quite some time. Harry was about to break the silence, but Draco beat him to it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is absolutely useless!” He exploded, throwing the book to the ground and running his hands through his hair. “We’ve been at this what, all fucking day? And we’ve come no closer to figuring out what happened, why I’m like this, or if I’m stuck like this forever.” He kicked his foot out and a pile of books went flying across the room, startling Harry. “This is bloody useless!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, no, Draco…” Harry reached out a hand, but Draco slapped it away, picking up a book near his foot and throwing it against the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bloody useless!” Draco was on his feet now, breathing heavily, eyes wild. He picked up another heavy book and threw it across the room, and this time it connected to a vase that was perched on a shelf. Harry flinched at the sound of it shattering, and clambored to his own feet to stop Draco’s tantrum. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not useless!” Harry insisted, reaching out to him. “We’ll find out what’s going on with your mind. It may take time, but I have full confidence…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Full confidence.” Draco scoffed. “Must be fun to live in a fantasy world! My memory is gone, and there’s nothing that can be done. I have to literally rebuild from the ground up, and you have no idea what that’s like, because you! Remember! Everything!” He punctuated his words with flicks of his wand, and the sound of crashing and shattering caused Hermione to reappear, a tea service levitating behind her, eyes wide at the destruction Draco was causing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hermione, I’m so sorry, I’m trying to calm him down…” Harry said desperately, but Hermione shook her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s upset, can’t you see?” She cast a shield charm around  herself and Harry, and settled back into the armchair she had vacated. “Let him get it out. There’s nothing a Reparo can’t fix in here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They watched silently as Draco picked up book after book, flicking spell after spell, and soon, the room was full of flying pages and shattered glass. Harry commended Hermione silently; he knew how difficult it must be for her to sit back while her precious books were destroyed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a final Confringo, the tea service Hermione had brought in exploded, showering Harry and Hermione’s shield charms with steaming tea and porcelain. A cry tore out of Draco’s throat, and he collapsed onto the couch, head in his hands, shaking as he sobbed heavily. Hermione canceled the shield charms and gave Harry a knowing look. He sat down next to Draco and tentatively reached a hand out and rested it against his back. Draco stiffened and tried to shift his hand away, but Harry slipped his full arm around his shoulders and held on. It took a few moments, but Draco gave him, relaxing against Harry and clutching at him as though he was the only thing tethering him to the Earth. Wrapping his other arm around Draco’s front, Harry comforted his devastated boyfriend, murmuring reassurances into his ear and rocking him back and forth gently. His sobs began to recede and faded into slight sniffles, but still Harry held on, trying to radiate confidence into the embrace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on here?” A voice quipped from the doorway, causing Draco to jump in shock. Ron stood there, eyes sweeping across the mess, and landing on Harry and Draco on the couch. “Hey, I’m pretty sure there’s a no canoodling rule at this house. Budge up.” He strode over to the couch and sat down on top of Harry and Draco, wiggling around until Harry was forced to let go of Draco and Ron took his place. Throwing an arm over Draco’s shoulders, he gazed at Hermione, a smile quirking at his lips. “See, ‘Mione? This is what you get when my boyfriend here doesn’t have his big, strong man to keep him in check.” He planted a sloppy kiss on the side of Draco’s head, causing the blond to splutter and stare at him, eyes wide.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the…” he said faintly, his voice a bit nasally. “I destroyed your library. Why did you… why are you…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you pillock.” Ron snorted, waving a hand around the room at the destruction. “Things are replaceable. Friends aren’t, and you’re not in a good way.” He considered something, glancing at Harry and Hermione, before turning back to Draco. “I think tonight would be a brilliant night for the Leaky. What do you say?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Harry said, “I think we should probably head home and just relax for the rest of the day. It’s been a bit… emotional.” He stared pointedly around the room, and Ron laughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense. This kind of day is perfect for a night at the Leaky. I can clean this up in an instant. Why don’t you two go home and change? At least you, Harry,” Ron corrected himself, looking at Harry’s joggers and t-shirt. “Can’t go to the Leaky looking like that!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to wash up before we go.” Draco declared, standing stiffly and turning to Harry. “Come along, Poseidon. We can meet you two there, I expect?” He dipped his head to Hermione. “I apologize for my actions. It was out of line, and I can assure you it won’t happen again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Hermione responded, rising from her chair and beginning to wave her wand. “You think this is the first time you’ve destroyed my library? I keep the good vases put away for a reason, you know.” She winked at Draco, causing him to smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry picked up his rucksack and tucked his own copy of Draco’s medical files back into it before giving Ron a nod. “Meet you there in an hour?” He asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron looked around the room and smirked. “Maybe two. This is a bit more of a disaster than the last time it happened. See you in a bit, Draco. Poseidon.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two hours, then.” Harry glared at Ron, earning him a laugh and a hand wave, dismissing the both of them. With a jerk of his head to Draco, they left the library, coming to a stop in front of the still roaring fire. “Ready?” Draco nodded, and Harry grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from the jar his friends kept on the mantle and tossed it into the fire. “Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!” He called, stepping into the green flames, and away he went.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waited a moment for Draco to appear in the sitting room after him, ensuring that he made it back home, before going into the kitchen and filling up a glass with water from the faucet. He was starving, but didn’t want to admit to Draco that he should have ordered the groceries before they went to Hermione’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going up to my room,” Draco’s voice drifted from the other room, “If we have two hours, I’m going to lay down for just a bit. I’m … exhausted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he swallowed down a gulp of water, Harry nodded before realizing Draco couldn’t see him. “That’s fine,” he called out, “I’m going to take a shower and clean myself up. I’ll wake you thirty minutes before we have to leave, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s acceptable. I’ll just…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry heard Draco’s footsteps fading up the stairs and leaned against the kitchen counter, letting his eyes flutter shut. It had been a difficult day. Not only from the research and pouring over books, but Draco’s outburst had left him drained. It wasn’t as though it was the first outburst Harry had dealt with; Draco was, after all, emotionally repressed from being raised in the highbrow, Pure Blood society, and when his emotions got too much for him to internalize, they exploded out of him, manifesting in relatively unhealthy ways. He was prone to destroying things, as seen earlier in Hermione’s library, but he also had outbursts of accidental magic that left quite a bit of destruction in its wake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wondering if he should have stayed behind to help Ron and Hermione clean up his boyfriend’s mess, he set his empty glass in the sink and headed upstairs. He stopped in front of Draco’s door, listening intently, but he heard nothing. Either Draco was already asleep, or he had put up a silencing charm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry tore himself away from Draco’s door, sighing and wishing he could go in and share a cuddle with the obviously overwhelmed man. He wandered into his bedroom and then into the bathroom, stripping out of his clothes and tossing them into the basket by the sink. He fiddled with the knobs, adjusting the temperature of the water to just above scorching hot, before entering and allowing the steaming water to ease away the tension in his shoulders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What had they learned today? Harry thought to himself as the water cascaded over his head, massaging the bergamot-scented cleansing potion through his thick hair. Absolutely nothing. Even the minor things Hermione had tried to use to explain Draco’s memory loss were easily disproved by the length of time Draco was under, or by the readings of the diagnostics, or any number of other reasons. They were no closer to figuring out his amnesia than they were earlier in the day, and Harry felt defeated. He didn’t want to let Draco see that, so he steeled himself and told himself firmly that he would remain optimistic, even when things seemed as bleak as they did now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water began to grow cold, and Harry realized he had spent a good forty-five in the shower. The time didn’t seem to pass by that quickly, but with everything on his mind, it made sense. Twisting the knobs off, he stepped out of the shower into the steamy bathroom, grabbing a plush towel and running it through his hair before wrapping it around his waist. He considered his face in the foggy mirror, and decided against the shaving charm. He looked good with a bit of a scruff, and Draco liked it as well. In fact, maybe if he dressed to Draco’s standards, it could potentially jog his memory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Leaky wasn’t the fanciest of places, but joggers and a t-shirt were still a bit out of place. He decided on a nice pair of trousers, ones that Draco insisted he purchase for interviews and meetings with members of the board at St. Mungo’s, as well as a deep green button-up shirt that set off his eyes rather nicely. It had been a breakup present from Ginny, along with the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech - not that Harry had minded. They didn’t work well together, and the breakup was easier than staying together for appearances.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slipping on a clean pair of pants, he stepped into his trousers and pulled the button up over his shoulders, leaving it unbuttoned for the time being. He should probably wake up Draco, he thought to himself, and he padded down the hallway to Draco’s room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Draco?” He tapped on the door lightly, “Draco, if you want time to get ready, it’s time to wake up.” He heard rustling, and the telltale thump of something heavy hitting the door. It appeared that he was still in a mood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not going.” Harry heard the quiet, muffled voice. “You go. Have fun with your friends. Leave me here to wallow in my embarrassment and shame.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door was locked. Harry attempted to unlock it with a simple Alohomora, but he knew that Draco probably used something stronger to keep him out. “You don’t have to go, but Ron wants you to go. Hell, I want you to go! It’ll be good to get out of the house and have some sense of normalcy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Normalcy?” Draco laughed, his voice cracking. “I destroyed their library. I still don’t remember anything. I doubt they would want or appreciate my company.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry reached out with his magic and felt the wards Draco set on his room. They were the standard Auror-level wards, but thankfully, he had been taught how to get through them. It was good to have a best friend who’s the Head Auror. With a smile, he unraveled the wards and opened the door to see Draco sitting in the middle of his bed, blanket pulled up over his head and tucked under his chin. He had always done this when he was sad; Harry liked to call him his Sad Little Draco Burrito.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat down at the foot of Draco’s bed, resting one leg on top of the other. “You have friends who care about you, Draco,” he said, placing a hand gently where he thought Draco’s leg would be. “Ron and Hermione have been on the receiving end of your anger before. So have I, many times. It’s just something that makes you, you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco huffed, but raised red, puffy eyes to meet Harry’s. “It’s just difficult.” He said finally. “I don’t know where I stand with them. With you. With anyone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No one expects you to be the same as you were before.” Harry squeezed Draco’s leg in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. All he wanted was to take Draco into his arms and hold him, but he knew that this wasn’t the time or place. “The only thing any of us expect is for you to try, and that’s all we’d ever ask for. Even if,” Harry swallowed, “even if you never regained your memories, then we’d all make new ones. You’re part of the group, Draco. The only person ostracizing you is you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m surprised you know such a big word, Pegasus.” Draco cleared his throat and pulled the blanket off of his head, making his hair stand on end. “And I’m starting to think your name has nothing to do with Greek mythology.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d be right, Dracones.” Harry dodged a pillow that Draco threw at his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dracones are serpent-dragons, you halfwit! Not even close to the majesty of the night sky that I am actually named after.” Draco’s eyes grew wide. “I knew that? I remembered that? It’s something my mother used to tell me when I was younger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to retain things that you’ve heard multiple times, things that matter to you as a person. This doesn’t seem like a normal amnesia case.” Harry considered these thoughts, filing the new information away for later research. “You’ve forgotten some, but not all. That’s usually a good sign that your memories aren’t forgotten forever.” He stood and stretched, noting the appreciative look Draco gave him. “C’mon now, you pointy git. Get dressed; we’re meant to be at the Leaky in a few.” Ducking another pillow, Harry left the room, closing the door behind him. He had put all the cards on the table. It was now up to Draco to decide what he wanted to do.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About time you showed up!” Ron roared, thumping Draco on the back as he slid into the seat next to him. Draco had finally slunk downstairs, dressed impeccably and ready to go not thirty minutes after his and Harry’s talk. That made them a bit late to The Leaky Cauldron, but judging by Ron’s attitude and rosy cheeks, it hadn’t been a big deal. “What are you drinking tonight?” He asked. “First round’s on me… or, I guess the first three rounds are on me. We may have started without you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gin and tonic, extra lime.” Draco said immediately, plucking an orange from Hermione’s fruity drink. Ron gave Harry a pleading look, and he rolled his eyes and gestured around the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Another beer for me, mate, and one of those frilly lady drinks for ‘Mione,” he hiccuped, “The tab’s open, just tell them it’s on mine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ta,” Harry replied, making his way to the bar to order the drinks. Hannah Abbott was working, and he had a polite back and forth with her as she made the drinks he needed. He got Draco a double gin and tonic with extra lime, a Dragon Scale brew for Ron, a Butterbeer with a shot of Ogden’s Fire Whiskey for himself, and let Hannah go wild with whatever fruity concoction she decided to make for Hermione. It had become a joke between them all; Hermione wasn’t picky with what she drank as long as it was fruity and more juice than liquor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Levitating the drinks carefully in front of him, he made his way back to the table, where it appeared Ron was deeply involved in telling a riveting tale of one of Draco’s best cases.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mate, you were right </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you know? You knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what it was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> how it worked, and when you let out with that commanding voice of yours - you know the one, don’t give me that look - the underlings just </span>
  <em>
    <span>scattered.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You disarmed that music box without so much as breaking a sweat. You were brilliant</span>
  <em>
    <span>, </span>
  </em>
  <span>absolutely bloody </span>
  <em>
    <span>brilliant…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry set down the beer in front of Ron, who merely nodded while continuing his story, giving a brief wave of his hand and sending the three empty glasses back to Hannah. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione raised her eyebrows at the fruit mountain that was set in front of her, and gingerly took a skewer of grapes and began to pop them, one by one, into her mouth. “You know, when I said I wanted a fruity </span>
  <em>
    <span>drink,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” she said dryly, “I expected there to be something I could sip on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pretty sure I saw Hannah give you a bit of cranberry in there.” Harry lifted a few of the cantaloupe slices and pointed. “There, you see? You can slip a straw right in.” Hermione shot him a look of amusement and stuck a cocktail straw into the liquid. She hummed in pleasure as the drink hit her tongue. “Perfect. I can’t even taste the alcohol.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Brilliant,</span>
  </em>
  <span> mate!” Ron said again, thumping his mug on the table, the beer sloshing over the edge. “I’ve never seen a Curse Breaker with an affinity like yours. Well, maybe Bill, but you were his underling for a while, so I’m sure he taught you everything he knew. And with your background in the Dark Arts… brilliant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Say ‘brilliant’ again, Ron, I implore you,” Draco drawled, taking a delicate swallow of his gin and tonic. “I appreciate your enthusiasm for my craft, truly I do, but it feels like I’m an outsider hearing about all of these escapades.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Hermione interjected, looking excited, “That could be it! What if we took some of Ron’s memories, put them in a Pensieve, and let you view them? You’d be able to see the work you did, and maybe it could jog your memory.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Ron agreed, “I have a ton of great memories from the cases we’ve worked. I can get them right now, hang on a mo’...” He placed the tip of his wand to his temple and concentrated, and Harry saw the beginning of a thin, wispy memory pulling away with the wand tip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, stop it,” Draco chastised, tugging the wand from Ron’s hand and passing it to Hermione. “I appreciate it, truly I do, but I would be seeing the memories from someone else’s standpoint. That could be detrimental to my own memories, as it could skew my view of what happened if I do regain my own.” He smirked and patted Ron’s shoulder stiffly. “I think that we should put the reminiscing and memory talk to rest, and just have some drinks, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron shrugged and drained the last of his beer. “Another round then?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco nodded, tossing the rest of his gin and tonic back before raising to his feet. “I need the loo, and when I get back I expect there to be another double in my seat.” He stared deliberately at Ron. “You’d better sit next to your wife, Ron. You’re a bit touchy tonight, and while I know we’re meant to be ‘dating’, I remember nothing, so it is entirely inappropriate.” He flounced off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving Ron to heave himself to his feet and meander to the bar to get their next round.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wondering if he should have followed Draco to the loo, Harry switches into Ron’s vacated seat, leaving the spot next to Hermione open. She looked at him with pity in her gaze, and he shrugged. “He’s doing his best,” he said miserably, “He’s trying to joke with Ron about the boyfriend thing like you told him earlier, he’s still trying to figure out my name… he’s on Greek Mythology today, who knows what it’ll be tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione reached a hand across the table and rested it against Harry’s. “You’re doing everything you can,” she said, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing everything we can. It may take time, but I have full confidence everything will be fine. Let’s try to just enjoy the evening as though nothing’s wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s wrong.” Harry grumbled, but he sat up straighter and rolled his shoulders back, accepting the Butterbeer Ron brought him with a smile. He noticed that Ron had taken the liberty of ordering two double gin and tonics, and made a mental note to watch Draco as the night went on. He didn’t hold his liquor well on his best days, and they were drinking on empty stomachs. He’d have to remember to check their hangover potion stock when he got home, and possibly pick up some chips and kebabs…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not starting without me, are you?” Draco had returned, and slid comfortably into the seat next to Harry. “I’m going to drink all of you under the table.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It isn’t a contest.” Harry protested, but Draco had already thrown back one of the drinks Ron had brought him. With a cheer, Ron copied him and within a few moments, his next beer was empty and he had started on another. Harry and Hermione shared a bemused look as they watched their significant others drink more and more, trying to outdo the other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nursed his Butterbeer as Ron and Draco drank themselves into oblivion. Hermione had finished her mountain of fruit some time ago, and was sitting with her chin propped up on her hand, watching Ron with a glazed expression. “Ronald, I do think it’s time we head home,” she said with a yawn, “Hannah is closing up the bar, and I’m sure Harry and Draco are tired too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I’m knackered,” Harry jumped on the excuse, snagging the half-full glass of gin and tonic from Draco’s loose fingers. “It’s late, and it’s high time we head home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be such a wet blanket, Prometheus.” Draco slurred, trying and failing to reach for his glass. “We’re having a grand time, my boyfriend and I, and we would like to keep drinking if that’s quite alright with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Prometheus!” Ron burst into a giggling fit, “Blimey, that’s better than Poseiden!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Harry stood and grabbed Draco’s elbow, heaving him to his feet. “It’s time to go, Draco. Say goodbye.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, my love!” Draco proclaimed, “Until the next time we meet, you may ditch the bint and I’ll ditch Prometheus and we shall make sweet, sweet love until the morning…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry flushed scarlet and shot an apologetic look at Hermione, who looked close to bursting with laughter. He waved goodbye before steering Draco to the back of The Leaky Cauldron. “Steady now,” he murmured, pulling Draco close to himself as he Apparated them back into the living room of Grimmauld Place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S’nice.” Draco said, snuggling closer to Harry and pushing his nose into the soft skin of Harry’s neck. “Take me to bed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Harry wrapped an arm around his waist and directed him towards the stairs, helping as he stumbled every few steps. They made it to Draco’s bedroom, and Harry nudged open the door, setting Draco on the edge of the bed as he knelt and began unlacing his Oxfords. “May have gone a little overboard tonight,” he said conversationally, slipping Draco’s socks off as well, before standing and walking to the dresser. “I have a feeling you’ll not be in the best shape tomorrow, so let’s at least get you comfortable, alright?” He pulled a pair of green silk pajama bottoms from the drawer and turned back to Draco, who was struggling to get out of his pants. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whoever designed this monstrosity clearly did not think about the number of buttons versus an inebriated person,” he whined, kicking his legs. “Help me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chuckling, Harry made quick work of the buttons at Draco’s fly and pulled the trousers off, tossing him the pajama bottoms. “These should be easy enough to pull on. Go on then, and get under the blankets. I’ll grab a hangover potion and some water.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hangover potion was in a shared storage closet in the hallway, and he easily picked out the green bottle Draco preferred. They had many different flavors of the potion, all of them Draco-approved and brewed, but the one with a hint of mint had always been his favorite. Harry was partial to the vanilla, personally, but as he had barely had anything to drink, he wouldn’t need it. He summoned a glass from the kitchen and filled it with cool water from the bathroom tap before returning to find Draco lying prone on top of the covers, arms spread wide across the bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure we aren’t shagging?” Draco’s voice was muffled by the pillow. “This bed seems entirely too large for one person.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The bed in my room is bigger,” Harry replied, setting the water and hangover potion on the bedside table, “and yes, I’m positive we aren’t shagging.” At least that statement was true. Harry hated keeping their relationship from Draco, but he felt it would be detrimental to any healing if Draco focused on a relationship instead of healing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco turned his head and eyed Harry. “Wish we were.” It was said so quietly that Harry thought he imagined it and Draco groaned as he moved onto his side. “Why is the room still spinning?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because you let Ron get your drinks, idiot.” Harry tugged the blanket from underneath him and covered him up. “I guess I should have told you to slow it down, huh?” He stood and turned to leave, but was surprised when Draco’s long fingers closed around his wrist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know…” he opened one bleary eye and looked at Harry, “Harry doesn’t sound like your real name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry patted Draco’s hand and tried to pull away. “Er, well, sorry to break it to you, but that’s my name. You don’t call me that, but you already knew that. That’s probably why it sounds foreign to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco’s fingers tightened around his wrist. “Stay with me?” he whispered, and Harry’s breath caught in his throat. All he wanted to do was cuddle up next to the intoxicated blond and sleep, but he knew it was inappropriate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can… stay in the chair by your bedside?” He offered. “I can transfigure it into something bigger, that way you’re not alone…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not what I meant, and you know it.” Draco patted the bed next to him. “This bed is huge. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to wake up alone.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A battle Harry didn’t particularly want to think about raged in his head. On one hand, he didn’t want to take advantage of Draco, especially when he was so vulnerable. Being drunk, on top of having amnesia? That was just a recipe for disaster. But on the other hand… Draco wanted him to be there. Harry hadn’t been drinking and his head was clear, and he knew he could prevent anything from happening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a few moments of teetering on the edge, his resolve broke. “Budge up, then,” he said roughly, tugging his shirt off and toeing the shoes from his feet. He wandlessly summoned a pair of his own pajama pants; deep red and flannel, adorned with flitting Snitches. Stepping into them, he crawled into bed beside Draco, who immediately curled into his chest. “We’re not doing anything…” Harry began, and Draco slapped his chest lightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stuff it, you prude. Sleep. Cuddle. Good night.” With a happy sigh, Draco’s breath evened out and the light snores alerted Harry that he had fallen asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Draco,” he murmured, feeling the draw of sleep encapsulating him, as he wrapped his other arm around Draco’s middle, his nose buried in blond hair.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading so far! I'd love to hear what you think &lt;3 I'll be writing this one sporadically, but I have it all plotted out!</p>
<p>You can follow me on <a href="https://twitter.com/twistedhallows">Twitter</a> or <a href="https://twistedhallows.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a>! I'm basically everywhere as TwistedHallows so I'm sure you'll find me :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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